


post-stream feelings

by HelmetParty



Series: tyler and greek | LoL ban era [2]
Category: Real Person Fiction, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Bottom Greekgodx, Dom/sub Undertones, Greek Not Trying At All, M/M, Masturbation, Top Tyler1, Tyler Trying To Be Straight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:13:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27077050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelmetParty/pseuds/HelmetParty
Summary: Sitting on an egg for nine months isn’t the only thing Tyler can imagine Greek doing.
Relationships: Tyler Steinkamp | "Tyler1"/Dimitri Raymondo Antonatos | "GreekGodx"
Series: tyler and greek | LoL ban era [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1648867
Comments: 7
Kudos: 9





	post-stream feelings

**Author's Note:**

> Bruh I’m really wine drunk at the moment. I was watching xQc earlier and I thought to myself “wow, Greek got really unfunny” which prompted me to rewatch a shit ton of old compilations of THE BOYS and thus this. It’s shit and I AM drunk. Shoutout to the 3 ggx/t1 shippers out there. We calling this gg1 or tgx? Or “Riot ban Tyler again please”?

Macaiyla. He was imagining Macaiyla, he told himself. It was _definitely_ Macaiyla. He was happy with her. In fact, he was happy in general - thinking about someone else just wasn’t in his DNA. She knew that, he knew that. 

“Yes sir, sorry sir.” Those words keep repeating in his brain. It was an innocuous comment in response to his persistent screaming during a CS match; Greek’s words. As his hand slid over his ever present hard on, the words crossed in his brain. 

He twists them immediately. As he laid with his eyes closed, his hand slipped under his joggers, and he began to pump. He didn’t want this to last long, no, he was too exhausted, and Macaiyla was already long asleep. He forms the words to be coming out of her mouth instead. “Yes sir, sorry sir,” a much more feminine voice. He focuses on that. He _tries_ to focus on that. 

It fades away. Somehow, he can’t keep his focus - the words continuously transform back into that annoying voice he hated oh-so much. He feels guilty for it, but he continues to try and fight it, and tells himself that he was just too tired for this, and that there was no reason why his body was thinking of him instead of her. There was no correlation between the action and what was being said inside his mind.

Despite his internal justification, the thoughts continued. He had too much ammo to work with - the occasional joking comments that were suggestive, sometimes a little too suggestive. “You’re voice is quiet deep today, Tyler,” Greek had mentioned at one point. “Got me hot under the collar! I might have to go AFK...” He had laughed it off, as per usual. The chat had a field day momentarily. 

Before he knows it, he’s on the edge - Macaiyla, he tries to envision. Just Macaiyla. She was beautiful in every regard, and he loved her.

And yet, the idea of Greek on his cock instead of her flashes like wildfire in his mind. His hands deep in his stupid hair, cock in his throat. It makes him cringe, almost makes him want to throw up, and yet, he couldn’t stop - his hand pumped up and down as he envisioned it, Greek completely at his mercy, any snarky remarks thrown out the window. It’s too much. He comes.

There’s a moment before the post-clarity of jacking off where everything is at a standstill. For that brief moment, his mind is blank. It ends too quickly for his tastes, as not even a minute passes before the shame, disgust and guilt hit him just as quickly as this had all started.

He cringes and closes his eyes, a hand going to pinch the bridge of his nose. _You’re exhausted,_ he thinks. _Just go to fucking bed, idiot._

He cleans up quickly and quietly as to not wake Macaiyla. Desperately he wanted to fall asleep and forget all of it. As he puts his phone on the charger, he puts his arm around his girlfriend and holds her close. The darkness of the room is comfortable and silent, and yet, he can’t fall asleep.

He blocks thought from his mind. Yet still, there was a lingering hint of guilt and shame building up in his gut.

**Author's Note:**

> Someday I will write a genuinely good fic for these two idiots.


End file.
